Av2 Love Laws
by Awkward Turtleduck
Summary: Just because they are silent doesn't mean they do not exist. Loves hidden in the casket of their hearts, unspoken, ignored yet alive - here you will learn of the hidden sinful passions effaced from the world of propriety.
1. Warmth of the Snow

Where the Love Laws lay down who should be loved and how. How much.

**The Warmth of Snow**

Her cold blue eyes.

That's what seared into my memory when I saw her pass by together with her dark-skinned sister. She didn't see me but the sister did. The sister saw something in my eyes that shouldn't have been there.

With an evil smirk, she approached me after her sister wandered off. "What were you ogling at, imp?"

"The jewelries around her neck," I answered, bowing courteously.

The witch bored her eyes into mine but could not discern whether I was telling the truth or not. I chuckled inwardly. I wasn't the master of trickery for nothing.

Convinced that I was telling the truth, she spoke again. "If jewelries are what you want, go to my sister. She'll cram jewels enough on your throat until it burst!" Then she laughed at her own joke.

I laughed—or rather, giggled—with her. I could not risk her displeasure.

"What are you laughing at, you imp? Go to her!"

I prostrated myself before the woman with the wintry aura. I could feel my blood freeze. "Your Highness."

She looked down at me, her eyes narrowing. She was trying to fathom me like her sister. Ah, she would fail.

I risked a glance at her cold blue eyes and I saw something flicker in them. But it was only for a moment. She smiled. "This imp will do, sister."

The dark-skinned witch cackled. "I'm glad that our trip to this goddess-forsaken place didn't take long. Are you sure this vermin is good enough?"

"Imp, you have the powers of trickery, am I right?"

For that split second, I almost dropped my façade. But I couldn't let myself fall vulnerable. Not to her. "Yes, Your Highness."

"See here, sister, this imp doesn't have powers strong enough to be noticed by Mother. But his powers of trickery is more useful than anything else."

The dark murky eyes of the witch glistened with glee. "Ah, manipulation. Using others to do our dirty work." She laughed out loud. "How true. You heard that, vermin? You should be eternally grateful to us for giving purpose to your miserable life." In one swift motion, she grabbed my neck with her claw-like hands. "Listen imp. Don't you dare betray us or you shall taste my wrath."

I was choking. With the tight grip she had on my neck. With fear.

"Sister we want him alive not dead."

The dark-skinned witch cackled. "Right. We want him alive. For now." She let go of my bruised neck. "Let us leave before that old bat notice that we've gone missing."

***

She was cruel. She would use anyone unabashedly. Like she used me. She had tricked me, turned me into a human to make sure that I would remain her captive until she finds no more use for me.

I thought that once I brought the elf girl to her, she would find no more use for me.  
But even after I brought the elf girl to her, she still would not let me go. I was cursed to stay be her side.

I had often observed my new form in the mirrors made from ice in the castle of Shaenlir. I looked like an ordinary human with green eyes and dark brown hair. I was not old and ugly at least. The age of my human form corresponds to my age in my imp form, meaning since I was still relatively young in my imp form, I'm still young in my human form. And in these moments I often feel strange sinful thoughts crossing my mind.

***

I had known the Snow Queen long before. She was still called Ishtar then. The Nymph of Compassion.

I had strayed to the world of the humans one day. I had been experimenting with my magic and overcome by curiosity, I wanted to see what lies beyond the barren field of demons and imps. But the moment I went through the portal that divided the two worlds I ran into hunters and adventurers. Eager to try their skills they started hurling spears and brandishing their swords.

Being a weak defenseless imp that I am I thought that my end has come.

"Stop!" a beautiful voice called out. The hunters stopped to look at the intruder. Opening my swollen eyes I beheld a nymph in white.

"And who the hell are you? A Spirit?" one of the brutes spat. He turned to attack her, not knowing that she was a nymph. With one wave of her hand, she freezed the hunters.

She approached me and held me. It was the first time anybody had held me. She saw the question in my eyes and said to me, "I cannot let the strong bully the weak."

"But I—I am an imp," I stammered.

"Yet you did not come here to wreak chaos," she smiled. "Imp or human doesn't make a difference to me. I will help those who are in need."

At that moment something stirred inside me. It was desire. Desire for that warmth that this creature of ice and cold possesses. But slowly this desire turned into something corrupt.

It was one thing to desire compassion. And quite another to desire the nymph of compassion.

As soon as I had recovered she had sent me back to the demon world. Never to see her again. Until that day when she and her sister came looking for someone they could use.

***

There are times when she would seem so weak and vulnerable. Her face would become paler than usual. And she would have difficulty standing up. Then she would whisper softly, "I will sleep for a little while. Guard me, Wart."

She had been working on relentlessly, to cover the world in ice. And she needed these brief moments of rest to be able to continue her goal.

"Yes Your Highness." She would lay herself in the large mattress and her eyes would slowly close, as if she was afraid I would attempt something as she was sleeping. That hurt me more than anything.

Yes, I hated her. I hated her coldness. I hated her deceit. I hated her megalomania. I hated her for not having a heart.

For compassion.

For love.

But.

"You know I would never betray you, my Queen," I muttered once when I thought she was already sleeping.

To my surprise, she chuckled softly. "I know that Wart. I just want you to be the last thing I see before I sleep. It makes me sleep better, knowing you're there."

I could feel my heart constricting, trying to find some deeper meaning to her words. But I know very well that there was none.

***

As I stood by her, I often wondered if her lips were as icy cold as the air that surrounds her now. Would it freeze the lips that dare kiss them? Then I would feel my face burning.

Damn this human tendency to go red in the face!

Then I would realize yet again that I was in love with her.

Madly, unforgivably, sinfully.

There are some boundaries that cannot—should not be transgressed. An imp cannot love a nymph. In idle moments, I have often wondered why this is so. Who had dictated whom we could love and whom we could not love? Or rather, who could love and who could not love? Imps should not love. But the reason why everybody thinks we don't is because we were banished into a realm where we can not possibly know love. In the barren realm of the demons and menial creatures, what is there to love?

Ah if I had never known her, never felt her warmth, things wouldn't have become so complicated.

It is because of her compassionate nature that she was enslaved by her sister. Only she would approach her when all the other nymphs would hide. Foolish nymph.

But that was the reason why I love her.

And because I loved her, I knew that it would be best if she was set free. But I just couldn't. I wanted to continue living in this illusion.

***

As I exclaimed "I'm free! I'm free!", I could feel a crushing loneliness in my chest. I'm free. Yes, I'm finally free from this foolish passion. I'm finally free from trickery and deceit.

I could no longer cherish the hope that she would look at me in a different way. For as long as she had darkness in her soul, I felt that we had something in common. My soul was filled with darkness and deceit. And I had a human form. Distasteful as it is, an imp is even more repulsive.

Now, she is back to being the pure nymph she was before I first saw her. And I am back to being a poor imp with a few powers.

I'm finally free.


	2. Even Witches Feel Lonely

**Even Witches Feel Lonely**

Even witches feel lonely too.

In Bogwood, the other witches would not approach me. They envy me, yes. But they avoided me nonetheless. I was too wicked. But how can I help it? I am the Nymph of Wickedness after all.

I was too loathsome, too powerful, too devious to be cared about by anyone.

Except one.

My sister. The Nymph of Compassion. Ishtar.

When I was straying by the marsh, she would come. She couldn't enter Bogwood since she was—too pure. She would come with her beautiful blue eyes. Never missing a day.

Though I would usually glare away anybody who approached me, I couldn't do that to her. Maybe the loneliness was getting to me.

We seldom spoke. What had we in common aside from being both nymphs?

But even so I was thankful that at least someone was not repulsed by my self.

...

One day, she brought with her the Ice Blossoms from her realm.

I chuckled. "You are the only one who approached me."

She looked at me straight in the eyes and said with a smile. "You are my sister."

A curious emotion, a mixture of pleasure and pain coursed through me as I heard her say those words.

Ah, sister. It binds us yet divides us at the same time.

From that moment on, she became more talkative. She would talk about our other sisters, her realm, her daily adventures—everything. She would even confide to me her sorrows and fears, particularly the one that concerned her late husband, the Mountain King.

Yet this intimacy had an adverse effect on me. It made my blood boil. She thought we should be closer since we were sisters. Sisters.

The more I brooded over this reflection, the more frustrated I became. I could not bear being near her anymore.

...

One day as she was talking in a soft voice about that silly bull-headed man that was her husband, I felt blood pulsating madly in my head.

"Stay away from me!" I screamed at her. The feelings inside me was already too much to bear. "Stay away from me! I hate you!"

I saw the hurt in her eyes but I could not stop myself. Please understand Ishtar. Hate is the twin of love. When love is unfulfilled it becomes hate.

I hate you because I love you.

But she did not see that. And I couldn't tell her.

She left and I could feel myself getting colder inside. It was a different kind of cold than the one I feel when she was by my side. With her, the cold is soothing because her cold is coupled with her inner warmth.

Then I realized that I had let her inside of me for too long. That when she left, she had taken with her a big part of me.

...

For days she was gone. One day as I was languishing by the marsh, half-hoping she would come, half-cursing myself for hoping, I felt that curious mixture of cold and warmth. My heart leaped for joy.

"You've come back," I whispered, trying very hard to keep the joy from my voice.

"I know you didn't mean what you said. We are sisters after all."

I could feel yet again my heart sinking inside me. "Yes," I answered feebly. "We are sisters."

She could never conceive of that sinful thought of being more than sisters. Only someone as wicked as me could think of that.

At that moment I saw the answer to my problems. If she became as wicked as me, we could be together. We could change the world and break the rules that dictate who should love and who should not love, who should be loved and who should be loved.

If I could just put her under my control.

I felt sick at the thought of manipulating her.

But.

The world that the Goddess has created is too full of restrictions, restrictions that serve no other purpose than to perpetuate her hegemony. I could care less for the world, but for Ishtar, I would do anything.

Anything.

Even if it means I have to steal that one thing that made her good.

Even if it means I have to steal the love from her soul.

And make it mine.

I am a wicked witch after all.


End file.
